Let's Take The Long Way Home
by hungrygirl
Summary: Quinn and Rachel cross paths years later...with both of them much different from how they were in high school...and yet still much the same. Faberry, most definitely.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: First go at writing faberry fic. Never been to NY so anything about it would be part guesswork, part half-hearted research. My apologies in advance. I just don't have the time for research, just wanted to get the story out. Let me know how you feel, please. And, more importantly, if you think it's worth continuing. I have 50% of the plot figured out in my head. The rest, if I decide to take this to the end, I'd just have to wing and let the story figure itself out. **

**I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is. ;-]**

Quinn walks in to Beth's room, expecting to see her precocious 8 year old dressed and ready to go to her first day of school. Instead, she finds her little blonde replica still decked out in her purple jammies, sitting at the foot of her bed sporting a defiant scowl.

"Beth, why in heaven's name are you s-" she begins an exasperated rant, pausing only when she looks at her daughter's eyes and notices the quiet fear and insecurity lurking behind brown eyes. She squeezes her eyes briefly, swallowing the rest of her lecture as she approaches and then kneels in front of her little girl.

Her heart melts as she recognizes the look on Beth's face. The forced look of defiance so uncharacteristic of her little angel. And that's really what the little girl has been from day one - an angel. Shy and obedient. Quietly observant. Unbelievably bright and quick-witted for a child her age. And boy, does the girl love music. Something that doesn't really surprise her mother as both her and Puck loved music themselves - albeit much different styles. Needless to say, neither of them had done, and would ever do, anything to curb Beth's enthusiasm toward music. In fact, both secretly hope the little girl would eventually, at the very least, follow their Glee era footsteps.

Lately though, the blonde has recognized new facets of her daughter's personality surfacing. A little more daring, more initiative to try out new things she had previously never shown interest in. And a little more...chutzpah, as her father fondly - and proudly - refers to it. Little things such as refusing to wear the pink top Quinn had bought for her to wear to her 8th birthday party, insisting on the black Beatles top Puck had secretly gifted her instead. Or when she had scolded her father for calling 9 minutes after the hour he had promised he would call. In truth, they are both enjoying watching the little girl's evolution, curious and excited while still wary of what they'd have to deal with a few more years down the road.

"Beth," she tries again, affecting a gentler tone this time, "I know you're not happy about moving to New York but honey, we've talked about this. Mommy's work is here now and this is a really great opportunity for me to start my career off." The best thing about having a precocious kid, she's never had to worry about talking to her as if she were talking to an adult. Most times, Beth would get it without much explanation.

Still unable to get a reaction, Quinn continues. "I promised you we'll only give it a try. One year and if you still don't like it here then we'll talk about it and I promise we'll figure something out. You said ok to that, remember, sweetie?"

She gets a barely discernible nod after a few more seconds of grudging silence. "Ok then part of you agreeing to try it out here is to go to school. As much as your dad would love the idea of it, you will not be a 3rd grade drop-out, missy."

Quinn lets out a quiet sigh of relief when her teasing elicits a hint of a smile from her daughter still otherwise determined to keep up a defiant facade. She pokes the 8 year old's side teasingly, sensing the headway she's made. "Come on, get dressed now. I'm even pretty sure Auntie S won't mind if you wear that Beatles shirt to school today," she promises, knowing Beth loves her Aunt Santana, better known as Auntie S, who so happens to be the principal at William Sherman, the grade school she's enrolled her daughter at.

"Really?" Beth finally breaks her silent protest.

"Really rrreally rrrrrreally," Quinn replies, channeling Brittney - that would be Aunt B to the little girl who giggles at her mother's antics.

"Aunt B's funnier," Beth critiques, granting her relieved mother a little smile.

"As much as that hurts my feelings, I'll let you get away with it because you will be late if you're not dressed in the next 15 minutes, Simon Cowell." Quinn smiles, giving her daughter a peck on the forehead before wrapping the young girl in her arms. "And thank you, my love, for being so good to Mommy and giving this a chance. I love you and I promise, whatever happens, you come first, ok?"

When she feels her daughter nod into her shoulder, the older blonde unwraps her arms from around the tiny form.

"I love you too, Mom."

Quinn smiles adoringly at her daughter, getting up and ruffling blonde locks so like her own before giving the girl a gentle nudge to get her going.

"Santana, I promise you she was agreeable to the plan just a little while ago. I don't know why she's changed her mind again," Quinn laments tiredly, standing in front of Santana's desk as she explains how she has an 8 year old sitting in her car in the parking lot refusing to step out.

"I do." The brunette, smartly dressed in a gray pantsuit, briefly replies.

"You do what?" Quinn asks distractedly, fingers massaging the beginnings of a headache away from her temples.

"I know why she's changed her mind again," Santana declares in her usual confident manner. "You got to the parking lot, she saw all these strange faces, kids...the strange surroundings, she probably even heard the strange way these New Yorkers talk and heck, can you blame her if she's scared shitless again?"

The blonde throws her old friend a glare, wondering how someone who's supposed to be in charge of providing education to young children can possess the vocabulary of...well, the vocabulary of Santana from high school.

"I get that, S. But you still haven't told me how I can get her to get over that fear and walk through the front door at least."

"Beth likes music, right?" Santana asks, lips pursed in thought.

"No, she_ loves _music, " Quinn corrects, curious as to where Santana's headed.

"Hmm...I happen to have a _really _good music teacher I think Beth will absolutely love," the young principal begins, the old familiar smirk making an appearance. "Beth kinda reminds me of her, come to think of it," she adds, smiling an odd, fond smile. Odd only because Santana does _not _do fond smiles.

"Still waiting for the plan..." Quinn prompts, getting impatient.

"Ok, so how about this...she teaches 5th grade but she also handles a special music class after school, usually for kids who stay in day care for an hour or so and the kids just love her. We can promise Beth we'll get her in the class after school."

Quinn ponders the brunette's idea, quickly deciding it's worth the try seeing as how she's ran out of ideas herself. "Alright, so who's going to talk to my sulking girl about this plan? Think Auntie S can give it a try this time?" Quinn suggests, smiling expectantly.

Santana chuckles, rolling her eyes at the blonde. "Even better, let's get my music teacher to talk to her. She can be quite...convincing." The familiar smirk makes another appearance.

Quinn, oblivious to the brunette's inexplicable change in demeanor from thoughtful to devious, nods in agreement. "Alright then, bring this music teacher of yours to meet Beth. Let's see just how convincing she is."

"I'll send her along to meet you in the parking lot. Black Lexus SUV, right?"

"Alright, we'll be there," Quinn replies, already walking toward the door. Hand on the doorknob, she turns, remembering to ask about a particular detail. "What's her name again, S?"

Santana pauses from dialing the faculty room extension, "Rachel," she replies quickly.

Quinn pauses when she hears the name. In all her life, she's only known one Rachel. And this one happens to be a music teacher, too. She laughs at the coincidence. "It wouldn't be Rachel Berry, would it?" she asks with an eye roll.

Santana delivers another trademark smirk. "As a matter of fact..." she pauses dramatically.

Quinn raises an eyebrow, uncharacteristically and inexplicably feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Well?" she prods her friend.

"As a matter of fact...it wouldn't be Rachel Berry," Santana declares, laughing quietly. "It's James. Rachel James."

Not quite sure why she feels a brief pang of disappointment, Quinn lets out her own laugh.

"Whew," she jokes. "Got it, S. Tell Ms. James we'll be waiting."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. The response has definitely surprised me. I would've been happy with 1 review/feedback but getting more than that's such a pleasant surprise. Got me writing in a jiffy. :) Thank you a bunch, everyone who reviewed, read, added alerts, etc. Definitely spurs me to keep going with this. I can only hope I'll find the time to squeeze it in between school and work. Rest assured, I will try my darnedest. **

**Here it is, I was in a rush to write the next chapter. I hope I didn't screw this up too badly. **

Quinn has spent the last 5 minutes trying in vain to convince her resolute daughter to get out of the SUV and "say hi to Auntie S at least."

"Why can't she come out to say hi instead?" is all she's been able to get out of the 8 year old. Nearing the end of her rope and having almost forgotten about the music teacher who was supposed to try her hand at cajoling Beth out of the car, she is startled by a knock on the window.

Knowing it would be the almost forgotten Rachel James knocking, she holds a hand up signalling for the teacher to give her a second while she whispers a plea to her daughter, "Beth be nice to Ms. James please, ok. Aunt S says she's a wonderful music teacher and she'd really love to meet you."

She is pleasantly surprised when she notices her daughter's attention piqued by this new bit of information.

_This just might work._

Finally, she turns around to let her potential savior in, finding the woman with her back turned, phone up to her ear. She climbs out, heart skipping a beat at the familiarity of the other female's form.

Just as she straightens up, Rachel James turns and they meet face to face for the first time.

Or maybe not because, as it turns out, Rachel James is indeed Rachel Berry.

"Ber- Rachel?"

"Quinn?"

They say at the same time, sporting identical looks of wide-eyed, open-mouthed surprise.

"You're Rachel James?" Quinn finally manages to ask, her surprise waning, replaced by more of that inexplicable excitement at this unexpected meeting.

"Rachel James? Yeah, I guess you can still call me that," the brunette replies hesitantly. "And I'm guessing you're the desperate mom?"

The blonde laughs quietly, for the first time noticing the other girl's appearance. Nothing much has changed. The tiny brunette looks as tiny as she did back in high school. Her hair still flows past her shoulders, just as shiny as Quinn remembers it from eight years ago. Her style has definitely evolved, more mature yet still with a hint of the old Rachel. No argyle sweater, instead she's garbed in a soft pink cashmere-looking V-neck top and light gray skirt that shows off her legs.

Oh yeah, the legs haven't changed, Quinn thinks to herself, baffled that she remembers how amazing Rachel Berry's legs were back when she used to wear skirts much shorter than the one she wears now.

Dragging her gaze up, she scrutinizes the brunette's face this time, her gaze confident and not at all discreet. Law school has given her lots of practice in sizing up the opposition and not hiding it. Only this time, it's not the opposition she's sizing up. It's this surprisingly attractive version of Rachel Berry. A version of Rachel Berry whose smile is still of the mega-watt variety, however, with a certain softness and calm mixed in with it. And her eyes have retained that hyper, ever-excited gleam only they reflect excitement of a more tempered, mature kind.

Yeah, this definitely is Rachel Berry. Only a mature, definitely intriguing version.

"Quinn?" Rachel's amused voice snaps her out of her scrutiny. "Where did you go? Were you thinking of the most suitable way to apologize for your conduct in high school? Because if you are, I'm going to grab myself a chair as we may be here for a while considering the sheer quantity of discourtesy you demonstrated toward me."

Quinn's mouth opens, her instinct to refute the brunette's lengthy diatribe. She quickly swallows whatever argument she had been prepared to dole out, noticing the teasing glint in Rachel's eyes. She shakes her head instead, smiling at the other girl.

"You got me there. You're just as loquacious as ever, obviously. As for the apology, I could start on it now but it would seem forced after that tirade of yours, teasing or not."

This elicits laughter from the brunette. "Loquacious huh? Law school's taught you big words, too, I see," she banters back, surprised that this relaxed - quite enjoyable even - conversation with Quinn doesn't weird her out.

It actually feels natural.

"How'd you know I went to law sch-"

A sharp knock on the car window interrupts Quinn's curiousity. She slaps her forehead, realizing she's forgotten about her daughter inside the car.

"I believe there's someone I have to meet," Rachel reminds her.

"Yeah, of course, of course..." Quinn replies, opening the car door and sticking her head in. "Honey, I want you to meet someone. Her name's Ms. Ra-"

"Rachel Berry-James," the little girl finishes for her mother, surprising the older blonde.

"You know her?"

"Duh, mom," Beth replies with an eye roll. "She was in Rent. And a few other broadway musicals."

"Oh," is all Quinn could muster for a few seconds, a little embarrassed that her 8 year old daughter seems to know more about her high school classmate - and Glee club captain - than she does. Recovering her wits, she quickly takes advantage of her daughter's undeniable interest. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Come out and meet her," she tugs the young girl's hand gently.

She is pleasantly surprised when the girl indeed crawls out of the SUV to stand in front of a smiling Rachel, now crouched low to Beth's height.

"Hey there, rockstar," Rachel greets the awestruck girl. "I heard from Santana that you're quite the musical prodigy. She told me you play the guitar and piano quite excellently and that you've a voice even better than your mom's."

Quinn laughs, not at all offended by the comparison. Her feelings at the moment are far from negative. For one, her best friend's obvious pride in her little girl touches her. And then there's the unbelievably comfortable manner Rachel seems to be interacting with her daughter.

"My mom sings?"

Beth's disbelieving query catches Rachel off-guard. "You didn't know? Your mom definitely sings. She was in glee club with me and Santana, as a matter of fact."

"My mom?"

"Yes, your mom, sweetie. She was quite good, too. Although occasionally she went sh-"

"Sharp but that's only because I didn't have the training Rachel did," Quinn interrupts, earning a highly-amused giggle from the brunette.

"That's right, Quinn. But you were good nonetheless," the brunette adds, looking up to shoot the blonde a genuine smile.

Quinn smiles back and for a moment their gazes lock, soft smiles on both their faces.

"Wow, I didn't know that," Beth's quiet voice breaks their brief staring moment.

"Well, I could tell you a lot more about what your mom was up to back in high school if you drop by my music class after school. And maybe you can let me hear you sing or play the guitar in return," Rachel offers, sending a quick teasing glance at a still smiling Quinn.

"Ok."

Quinn's eyebrows raise in shock, surprised by her daughter's quick assent. Rachel's joyous clap snatches her attention and for a moment, she once again remembers the Rachel Berry she knew from high school.

"So, since this is your first day, how about I pick you up from your last class and walk with you to the music room?"

Quinn smiles gratefully at the brunette, still shaking her head at how easy it has been.

"Ok, thank you Ms. Berry-James," Beth politely replies, smiling shyly.

"Rachel will do, Beth. Or if you're not comfortable calling me that in school, Ms. Berry will suffice."

Quinn is unable to hold back a chuckle at the brunette's use of big words even when conversing with an 8 year old. "That means Ms. Berry will d-"

"I know what "suffice" means, Mom," Beth interrupts her mother, sending her a mildly affronted look.

"I had no doubt you would," Rachel quickly chimes in, looking challengingly at Quinn.

"Of course you do, sweetie. Sorry. I forget sometimes that you have a vocabulary that could rival Ms. Berry's here."

Once again, Rachel giggles, a little nose-wrinkling accompanying the sound.

_How cute is she? _

Quinn shakes off the unexpected thought, almost horrified that she could think that of the girl whose life she made miserable in high school.

"So...shall we go meet your teacher and new classmates then?" Rachel tries, careful not to push too hard as per Santana's warning.

For a moment, Beth sports the same terrified look causing Quinn to hold her breath, equally terrified that her daughter would retreat once again.

Beth holds her hand out tentatively and Rachel, not missing a beat, takes the tiny hand in hers, smiling to reassure the obviously insecure child.

Quinn's sigh of relief is audible and before she knows it, she has a startled Rachel wrapped in a hug.

The brunette overcomes her shock in time to return the gesture by wrapping her free arm around the taller girl's waist and returning the blonde's squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Rachel," Quinn whispers close to her ear.

"My pleasure, Quinn. Don't worry about it," Rachel replies, patting Quinn's back.

The blonde lets Rachel go but not before giving the tiny brunette's forearm a squeeze. "And Rachel...it's good to see you again ."

The smile that went with the spoken sentiment is genuine and friendly, returned in much the same manner by Rachel.

"Likewise, Quinn...likewise."

Quinn crouches down after trading another quick smile with Rachel, giving her daughter a quick hug and a lingering kiss on the cheek. "I love you, honey. Have fun today, ok, and I'll see you after class."

"Bye mom, love you too," Beth replies, giving her mother a quick squeeze with her tiny arms.

Quinn watches the blonde and brunette pair walking toward the school entrance, hearing traces of their quiet conversation.

She continues to watch Beth and Rachel, waving back when the twosome pause at the double doors to turn and send her a quick wave.

She couldn't help but notice that for the first time since that morning, her daughter is smiling.

And she has one Rachel Berry James to thank for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alrighty, here goes the next one. Sorry, I really probably will only be able to update weekends. Apologies if the story's pace is a little slow for anyone. I tend to end up doing that. I hope to get one out before the weekend. Can't promise though. Again, THANKS for the reviews. Much much much. They really guilt er...push me into writing as fast as I can. :) Oh, and I really just wanted to get this posted, didn't have much time to carefully check for errors. If you find any, sorry. And feel free to point them out. :)**

Chapter 3

Quinn couldn't quite believe her ears when she hears the sound of her daughter's laughter from behind the closed classroom door marked "Music Room." She brings her ear closer from where she stands leaning against the wall, jumping when the door suddenly opens to reveal Rachel and Beth, both wearing looks of equal parts surprise and amusement.

"Mom!" Beth calls out happily as soon as she gets over the initial surprise of catching her mother eavesdropping. She runs and then jumps to give the rosy-cheeked Quinn a big hug in greeting.

"Hey, sweetie!" Quinn greets back, spying a smiling Rachel. She grins back over Beth's shoulder, still a little embarrassed, and then flutters her fingers in a small wave. "I see you're in much better spirits, huh," she remarks to the smaller blonde as she straightens up, keeping one arm around the girl's shoulder.

Beth shrugs, smiling, and then nods shyly. "I had fun," she replies in a voice hinting at restrained excitement.

"Couldn't be happier to hear that, baby." Quinn squeezes Beth's shoulder, turning her attention to the brunette still watching them quietly. "Hey, Rach."

The brunette steps out into the hallway, mimicking the blonde's earlier wave. "Hey, Quinn. You've got quite the musician here," she says while lightly ruffling Beth's hair. "She plays a mean guitar and has amazing control of her voice. Are you sure she's only 8?" she teases, sneaking a wink the 8 year old's direction when the girl briefly looks up from her staring match with the ground below.

Quinn laughs, suffused by maternal pride. "I often find myself asking the very same question, you know," the proud mother counters, beaming at her little girl still staring timidly at the ground.

"Mooom," Beth protests quietly, embarrassed at being the topic of conversation.

"What? Mommy's proud of you, baby girl. But alright, no more talking about you...when you're present," the young mother teases. Beth's nose wrinkles as she gives her mother a pouting smile.

Rachel watches the exchange, not missing the obvious affection between mother and daughter. It's only been hours since she's met the lovely child and gotten reacquainted with Quinn and she figures it'll take many more before she can completely wrap her head around this older, more mature, and much nicer version of her high school tormentor. Surprisingly, there had been very little negative feelings brought about by this unexpected reunion. Sure, there had been more than a little awkwardness in the beginning but whatever little interaction they've had since have been comfortable and pleasant. Having the young girl's presence sure has helped, snatching their attention away from their less than jovial history. Not only that, having a daughter appears to have softened the blonde. She would've never imagined one day seeing nothing but adoration and deep affection in Quinn's eyes - exactly what she sees now as she watches the two blondes interact.

Rachel listens quietly as Beth tells Quinn about her day, waving off Quinn's apologetic smile. As she lets their conversation carry on, she spies Santana headed their direction. She offers a friendly wave.

"Hey Berry," the other brunette greets even as her attention's already on Beth. "And hey, kiddo. You seem much happier than this morning," she adds, crouching down and offering her cheek for the 8 year old to kiss.

"Hi, Auntie S," Beth greets happily as both arms wrap around Santana's neck. "Today was ok," she volunteers, smiling as she pulls away from Santana.

"Just ok?" Santana goads playfully. Beth rolls her eyes, the equally playful gesture surprising Rachel. The blonde girl is, obviously, quite comfortable with Santana. And vice versa.

_Imagine that. Santana Lopez comfortable with an 8 year old. _

She does run a school with of more than a hundred kids, Rachel reminds herself.

"I had fun," Beth concedes, adding as she smiles shyly at Rachel, "especially music class."

"That's great! I knew you and Berry would get along," Santana voices, proud that it had been her idea to get the two together. "You remind me a lot of Rachel actually," she tells the little blonde. "Only with much better fashion sense," she adds, smirking at the other brunette.

"She's gone a long way, fashion-wise," is Quinn's immediate retort, surprising Rachel by coming to the brunette's defense.

Santana quirks an eyebrow at the blonde. "And you'd be a very good judge of that, wouldn't you, Quinn? Considering how much attention you gave to Rachel's fashion sense in high school." Her smirk remains, this time directed at Quinn who visibly cringes at the reminder.

"Like you never gave me hell, too, Ms. Lopez," Rachel chimes in, her smile bearing no hint of real resentment.

"Pfft. I sure did. But not as much as HBIC here," Santana argues.

"What's HBIC?" Beth asks before their banter could continue. Quinn sends Santana a glare, wordlessly urging the brunette to bite her tongue.

"I'll tell you one of these days, Beth," she replies. "Or maybe Rachel here can," she adds, turning to the music teacher. "Speaking of Rachel telling you about how lovely your mother was in high school," the latina pauses, gaze shifting quickly between Quinn and Rachel, "wanna join us for dinner, Berry? Brit'll be there, too, of course. It'll be like a mini reunion. We haven't really had a chance to sit down and catch up with Q."

"You mean like a cheerio-glee captain reunion?" Rachel quips.

Santana pretends to consider this. "Nah, I was thinking more a cheerio-fashion disaster reunion."

Quinn couldn't help the laughter that bubbles up, quickly following it up with an apologetic look toward Rachel who just rolls her eyes.

"As tempting as the offer is, I'm afraid I can't. I have an uh...," Rachel hesitates,"an appointment. Maybe we can plan another get together one of these days? I'm quite certain the rest of my week nights are unoccupied."

"Alright then, maybe you can catch up. We have a lot of catching up to do, depending on how this little one here holds up," Santana adds, ruffling Beth's hair fondly.

"Mom, I thought you said I can go over to Shay's after school?" Beth reminds Quinn, her scowl so reminiscent of her mother's, the two brunettes think to themselves.

Quinn slaps her forehead at having forgotten one of the many bargaining chips she's used this morning to get her daughter to school. "Well, maybe I can drop you off at Shay's then pick you up when you guys are done with whatever you're doing so you can have dinner with us," she proposes. Shay is their next door neighbor's 9 year-old daughter with whom Beth had immediately hit it off, bonding over their love for music and books the last three weeks they've been at the apartment.

She looks down to see her daughter appearing dissatisfied with her proposal. "Can't I just have dinner there? I'm sure her mom won't mind, she always asks me to stay but I've never. Pleeease?" Beth pleads with her mom, tugging at the older blonde's hand.

"Alright, alright. But only this time, ok." Quinn crouches down, attempting a stern look which quickly softens. "You know I want us to have dinner together as much as possible since..."

"Since I won't be having lunch with you anymore now that school's started. I know, mom. It's not like I'm moving out. It will just be tonight, I promise. Mrs. Feldman would be happy for me to finally accept her offer for dinner," Beth cuts her mother off impatiently.

Both Rachel and Santana chuckle at the girl's precociousness, her spunk reminding Rachel of Quinn. Santana, on the other hand, continues to find it eerie how much Quinn's daughter is like that the girl she used to torment in high school. Talk about life's ironies, she laughs to herself.

"I wasn't saying no, young lady, just reminding you of mommy's feelings about this," at Beth's continued look of impatience, Quinn decides it's time to move on from the topic.

Santana interrupts the two blondes, "Alright, that's settled, I think. I made reservations for 6 at Dovetail. Thought you'd want an early dinner because of Beth here."

Quinn quirks an eyebrow at the brunette, surprised by her thoughtfulness. "Wow, didn't peg you as the considerate kind, S," she teases, earning an eye roll from the latina.

"Psh. It was Brit's idea."

"Of course it is," Quinn concedes unconvincingly.

"Ok, I'm going," Santana waves the blonde off, giving Beth a quick kiss on the top of her head. "Try to catch up, Berry. You and Quinn have a lot of catching up to do," she announces, smirk back in place.

"Can't promise but I'll try," Rachel replies to Santana already stalking off, leaving her and the Fabrays.

"If you can't catch up, we really should plan the next one ASAP, Rach," Quinn remarks, surprising both herself and the brunette when she reaches over to give Rachel's forearm a light squeeze. "I can maybe make dinner at my place so this little one here won't have to be fed by someone else' mother," she adds playfully, nudging her daughter with her hip. Beth rolls her eyes as Rachel giggles.

"Sure, Quinn. That sounds great. I can't wait to sample your culinary creations. Who would have thought the day would come when you would be cooking for me. I'm excited!," Rachel replies enthusiastically.

Quinn laughs, embarrassed by the brunette's overestimation of her kitchen skills. "Culinary creations? Lemon chicken and rice is just about the extent of my culinary repertoire so you better lower your expectations, Ms. Berry."

Rachel's uncertain expression initially confuses the blonde before she remembers a certain detail about the brunette's nutritional preference. "You're vegetarian!" Quinn's hand finds itself back on Rachel, on the brunette's shoulder this time. "I will take that into consideration and find a suitable dinner menu, of course," she reassures the brunette who now sports a little pink on her cheeks.

"You don't really have to. I mean rice and uh...lemon sauce will do," Rachel tells the blonde, cheeks continuing to flush although whether from a little embarrassment at having to impose her vegetarianism on Quinn or from the hand that contiues to linger on her shoulder, she's not quite sure.

"Nonsense, I'll google something," Quinn says, gesturing with the hand she had on Rachel's shoulder.

"If you insist."

"I do," Quinn reassures the brunette, adding, "I'll check when Brit and Santana are available, too and we'll make plans then."

"That sounds perfect!" Rachel beams, attention caught by Beth shifting impatiently beside her mother. "I think you should take this little one here," she reminds the blonde mom.

"Yeah, we should get going. I've a few errands to run before dinner." Beth grabs her hand, redy to drag her to the car. "Say bye to Rachel, Beth, before running off," she nudges her daughter who readily complies.

"Bye and thanks, Ms. Berry. I'll see you tomorrow," she directs at Rachel, waving quickly.

"That you will," Rachel replies, waving back. "I'll see you tomorrow, too, Quinn," she turns toward the blonde, sending her another wave.

Quinn hesitates for a second before leaning in to hug the surprised brunette. "Thanks again, Rachel. You've turned a very difficult day around. I appreciate you taking care of Beth a lot," she mumbles close to Rachel's ear, giving her a squeeze before pulling away. "And yes, I will see you tomorrow for sure," she adds, waving as she turns around after another impatient tug from Beth.

Quinn continues to stare at the unruffled brunette munching on a celery stick, seemingly oblivious to her pointed stare. Not even a particularly loud clearing of her throat and drumming of her fingers seem to penetrate Santana's indifference.

"Babe, I think Quinn needs something from you," Brittany finally breaks the silence after a minute of observing the other blonde.

Santana briefly looks up from dipping a celery stick in the dressing. "What do you want, Q?"

Quinn rolls her eyes before glaring at the brunette, trying hard not to give in and show any hint of her amusement. "You know what I want, bitch."

The brunette raises one eyebrow, herself holding back a grin. In truth, she's missed bantering with Quinn, name-calling included. "I really don't," she insists, shaking her head, and earning another eye roll from the blonde mother.

"I think she really doesn't know Q," Brittany backs her girlfriend up, "otherwise, she wouldn't ask. Right, S?" Santana smiles at the blonde, exaggerated appreciation eventually replaced by genuine fondness.

"Thanks, babe," she directs at the tall blonde, sneaking a quick peck. "I think Quinn here just doesn't know me too well anymore. I mean, can you blame her? We haven't really talked much to her. She's only returned our calls what...6 times in the last 8 years?"

Brittany ponders this for a moment, shaking her head in disagreement. "It's 13, babe. I've been logging it in my notebook. You're probably not counting the times she called back and left a message on the machine."

Santana chuckles quietly, offering praise for the blonde's efficiency.

Quinn, on the other hand, sighs in defeat, knowing this is one argument she can't win. Santana wasn't exaggerating - she hasn't been the best at keeping in touch with her two high school best friends. Since moving to L.A. to go to law school, she'd gotten so immersed in and preoccupied with raising a kid and doing well in school that neglecting her best friends had to have been inevitable. At least that's what she's been telling herself all these years those times guilt had nipped at her.

Being terrible at keeping in touch had not kept her from keeping track of the couple's lives though, thanks to Brittany's voicemails both on her cell and home phone. The other blonde often had to call back a few more times to finish her interrupted stories when the machine cuts her off mid-story. It hadn't been a desire to totally distance herself from the two, it had just been that it eventually became real easy to keep using the "they'll understand I'm too busy raising a kid and going to school" rationalization in her head.

"I texted..." she offers weakly, eliciting a cross between a chuckle and a scoff from Santana.

"Yeah, you did. And it said the same thing everytime -" the latina agrees, sarcasm dripping.

"Sorry couldn't pick up, busy with Beth. Call you after I finish studying.," Brittany finishes for her.

"Was studying the other excuse, B? You're sure it wasn't something else?" Santana confirms with exaggerated interest.

Brittany's brows crease in thought, once again wracking her brain for information. "Oh oh, you're right!" she exclaims in triumph. "I think it's Beth _and_ laundry!"

Quinn groans, thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed now. "Alright alright...so I haven't been the best at keeping in touch. I'm really sorry for that. I suck and owe you both big time," she concedes. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll call and text and visit you two every free time I have you'll be begging me to leave you alone."

Brittany giggles while Santana chuckles. "Psh. I'll believe it when I see it," the brunette declares, tone playful and teasing now. In truth, her indignation at her friend's seeming indifference had been short-lived. In addition to constant pressure from Brittany to be considerate of their friend's situation, she had always admired Quinn's determination and perseverance in her pursuits. She may not have voiced it often but the blonde had always been a secret role model. Which is why when she got a call from Quinn 6 months earlier informing her that the blonde and her daughter were moving to New York for an "irresistible job offer" and asking if there was any way she could help Beth get into the William Sherman school, she had been more than happy to acquiesce after only a short guilt-tripping attempt. There was no holding back from her blonde partner, on the other hand. Brittany had squealed and jumped around for a good two or three minutes as soon as she whispered the news to her.

A month later, they were picking up their high school best friend they hadn't seen in more than 3 years for a visit and, at the same time, to scout the city they'll be moving to. The tiny kid they remember from their previous meeting in LA had now grown into a beautiful replica of Quinn. As shy as the little girl was, her reserved persona had been no match for Brittany's determination and enthusiasm, quickly winning the girl over and getting her to relax around her now "favorite aunts." Even the usually stoic and indifferent latina had fallen in love with Beth. As much as she resembled her mother in looks, their personalities- at least outwardly - were so different Brittany had once jokingly asked, ironically, if Quinn was sure Beth was hers and not Rachel Berry's kid. While Santana laughed her heart out, Quinn could only shake her head in feigned indignation at Brittany. The glaring difference in personalities eventually fade as you spend time with the girl though, both Brittany and Santana had realized. It was obvious Beth had a lot of Quinn's spunk and spirit in her, only not as apparent.

"I'll never beg you to leave us alone, Q. We've missed you too much to do that," Brittany reassures her kindly, only succeeding in making Quinn feel even guiltier.

"I don't know, Brit, did we really?" Santana questions, continuing to poke at the other blonde.

"No, really, I promise...I'll be -"

"Save it, Q. I believe you. I'm just giving you a hard time. You think I even cared that you never returned our calls?" She waves her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't even have kept calling if not for Brit. You should thank her for being so damn persistent. She never lost faith you'll eventually call back or, god forbid, initiate a phone call."

"But you were always in a bad mood for days when we'd call and we'd get Q's voice mail, babe," Brittany counters to the contrary giving Quinn an opportunity to smirk at Santana this time.

The latina rolls her eyes before swiftly shifting gears. "So...what is it you want, Q?" she asks still feigning cluelessness.

Quinn shakes her head, chuckling at the display of stubbornness she's missed from the brunette. Deciding it would be futile not to give in, she finally voices what's been bugging her since this morning's encounter with Rachel. "Alright, alright. Why have you never told me Rachel Berry works for you?"

"You never asked?" Santana replies quickly.

"I asked this morning!"

Santana laughs. "You asked if it's Rachel Berry. It's not. She goes by Rachel James now," she adds matter-of-factly.

"But you and Brit have kept me up to date about most everyone from high school, especially from Glee, but never mentioned Rachel?" Quinn questions, genuinely curious.

"We just didn't think you'd be interested, Q," Brittany replies this time.

"Why not?"

"Hello, Q?" Santana protests in disbelief. "We're talking about Rachel Berry, the girl you used to make fun of every other breath? The one you slushied every single day in high school? The one you had at least 214 names for?"

Quinn cringes at the reminder, having lived with intermittent bouts of guilt whenever memories of how she had treated the brunette diva in high school had come to mind.

"I didn't always slushy her."

"Yeah, S, she didn't. Some days she'd ask one of the freshman cheerios to do it for her."

Santana laughs qietly, raising a challenging eyebrow at Quinn who continues to squirm uncomfortably.

"I was much nicer to her senior year," the blonde reasons, not quite sounding confident in her argument.

Surprisingly, Santana shrugs in reluctant agreement. "A little."

"A little more than a little, Q," Brittany once again rushes to reassure their bothered friend. "You

made everyone stop slushying Rach."

"But you still called her names," Santana offers, refusing to absolve the ex-cheerio.

"Yeah, you did," Brittany agrees after some thought. "Why?" she then asks in her usual vague manner.

"Why what, B?"

"Why'd you stop the slushies but kept making fun of her and calling her names?" Brittany clarifies.

"Yeah, Q, why did you?" Santana follows up, her own theory hinted at by her sly smile and raised eyebrow.

Quinn considers the couple's question, appearing genuinely unsure. "I'm not sure. I just...I don't know...couldn't leave her alone?"

"How about because you were horny for her," Santana suggests, drawing a chastising slap on the forearm from Brittany.

Quinn, meanwhile, could only chuckle nervously. Her instant reaction had been to reject the suggestion, however, now - inwardly, she wonders if there had indeed been a disguised attraction to the brunette spurring her outward meanness toward Rachel. She shrugs, unable to even muster a denial.

"See, she can't even deny it, B!" Santana exclaims triumphantly as Brittany giggles, tickled by the thought.

Quinn decides to maintain her silence, willing to let the two enjoy this new guessing game. Before Santana could continue to badger her about something she's only just now entertained herself, she redirects the conversation back to safer territory. "What's with the James last name anyway? Did she marry that ass Jesse after all? Is that his last name she carries now?"

"Hell, no, Q!" Santana's hostile response surprises Quinn, even as it hints at the kind of friendship the two brunettes must have now with the latina seemingly having grown protective of the diva she used to give slushy baths to in high school. "The ass' last name's St. James. Rachel is Rachel James, not Rachel St. James."

"Thank god for that," Quinn replies, partially relieved. She's not quite sure why yet but the fact that neither of her friends have denied Rachel being married unsettles her. "So whose last name does she carry? Who's Mr. James?" she prods, curious.

"Oh that's Ri-" Brittany promptly replies - or tries to, at least, before a tanned hand covers her mouth.

"Nah uh. That's not for us to tell babe. Let's let Q here find out whatever she wants to find out about Rachel from Rachel herself," she tells the blonde.

Quinn groans, ready to protest and appeal to Brittany's more generous nature. To her

disappointment, however, the blonde in front of her appears to love her partner's idea.

Brittany claps in barely contained excitement. "That's a great idea, S! Q and Rach should have dinner together! To catch up," she proposes with much enthusiasm. "And maybe Q can apologize for being mean to Rach, too, right?" This time she looks at Quinn for approval.

Quinn groans, knowing her fate's practically sealed. once Brittany gets an idea in her head, she's an even tougher nut to crack than Santana. She considers whether to be upfront about her previously issued dinner invite to Rachel but then decides against it, not desiring more needling from the two. "Ugh. Why can't you guys just tell me?" she protests half-heartedly, realizing the futility of pushing.

"Come on, you know you want to take Berry out," Santana remarks, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Take Rachel out? Sure I'd love to catch up with her, especially now I owe my child's education to her. But take her out like _that_?" a well-shaped eyebrow raises.

"Q's right, baby," Brittany nods in agreement. "It's too early to take Rachel on a date. They just got reunited," she explains patiently to the brunette who continues to sport a smug smile.

Quinn could only laugh quietly. "No use arguing with the two of you. I'll invite Rachel to dinner one of these days," she declares, laughing inwardly. Her acquiescence earns a squeal of delight from Brittany and a triumphant smirk from Santana. "With Beth. To thank her properly. And yes, Brit, I'l throw in an apology, too," she directs at the smiling blonde.

When Quinn shifts her gaze to Santana, she finds the brunette distracted. The latina smiles and then waves at someone behind her, causing Quinn to twist in her seat to find out who.

Her breath hitches for a moment when she spots their current topic of conversation walking toward them, waving back at Santana.

"Berry! We were just talking about you!" Santana announces cheerfully, grimacing in pain when she receives a kick under the table from Quinn. "What the f-"

"Santana!" Brittany scolds even before the latina can finish cussing.

"She kicked me!" the brunette protests much like a 5-year old.

"Because you're embarrassing Q," Brittany explains patiently, tone effortlessly switching from scolding to pacifying.

"But we_ were _talking about Berry," Santana continues to argue her case.

"Something she really doesn't need to kn-"

"Hey, ladies!" An old, familiarly energetic voice interrupts Quinn. She looks up to find a smiling brunette who waves almost shyly at her.

"Hey, Rachel." Quinn greets back, smiling broadly at the brunette. She catches Santana rolling her eyes.

"Hi Rach!" Brittany calls out, practically climbing over Santana to give the new arrival a hug.

"Glad you could make it, Berry," Santana acknowledges the brunette with a friendly nod. As fond as she's gotten of the brunette over time, hugging's something she saves mostly for Brittany and a few select occasions.

"Yeah, my uhm...appointment was cancelled so I figured if I hurried, and traffic-permitting, I'd still be able to catch you guys here so...here I am!" the other brunette declares in classic Rachel Berry fashion.

"Sit down next to Quinn, Rach," Brittany directs innocently.

"Yeah, sit down next to Quinn, Berry," Santana echoes, only not quite as innocently.

Quinn quickly scoots over, holding back the urge to give the latina another kick under the table.

"Oh my god!" Brittany's unexpected cry startles the other three at the table. And a few other diners in the restaurant, too.

"What's wrong, babe?" Santana asks, instantly concerned.

"I forgot to pick up my dress for the dinner party tomorrow!" Brittany replies, agitated and already attempting to scoot Santana out of the booth. "I gotta go pick it up now!"

"Ok, ok, calm down, babe. It's not even 7 yet. Don't they close at 8?" Santana tries to appease the panicked blonde.

"No no, they close at 7 today," Brittany replies, continuing to nudge Santana towards the edge of their shared seat. The brunette finally relents, getting up.

"I'll pick it up, you stay here. It'll take me no more than 15 minutes, hon."

"No, but I have to check if they really really cleaned it right, S," Brittany protests, climbing out after the brunette. "Ok?" she gives Santana a brief look. The next moment, the brunette appears to be in total agreement with her girlfriend's plan.

"Alright, let's get going then," she urges while the two still seated watch in confusion at the sudden turn of events.

"Wait, but you're coming back, right?" Quinn clarifies.

"Uh," Brittany hesitates, "we might."

"But you've only had appetizers, Santana," Quinn tries, well aware of the futility of her attempt. She knows her two friends well enough to be clued in by now to their plan hashed out wordlessly. She's always been spooked by how attuned to each other's thoughts the couple had always been. And despite what one would tend to think, most of the clever plotting have been devised by Brittany, the supposed-to-be ditzy blonde.

"We can get a bite on the way. I have a meeting with the board tomorrow to get ready for anyway," Santana quickly replies. "And dinner's on me by the way. I know the owner, they'll put it on my tab."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asks, herself a little uncomfortable about being left alone with Quinn. "I mean, we can wait for you guys," she offers. "I mean that's if Quinn's ok with it..." she quickly looks to the blonde for approval. Quinn shrugs, signalling she'd be ok with any plan.

"Oh no, that's ok, Rach. You guys can catch up. I think Q has some questions for you anyway," Brittany announces, beaming her usual grin, oblivious to Quinn's wide- eyed look of disbelief.

"Oh, and Q, we can pick up Beth up if yo get uh...carried away," Santana offers with a smirk. "We can take her home, just text or call," she adds as she runs off, dragged by a waving Brittany.

Thrown off by this sudden development, Quinn and Rachel find themselves momentarily speechless. They take deep breaths, left alone all of a sudden and finding themselves seated on the same side of the table.

"I guess it's just you and me," Quinn states the obvious, shrugging.

"Looks like it," Rachel agrees, smiling broadly as she tries to overcome inexplicable nerves. "So...," she starts, deciding to move to the other side of the table across Quinn before leaning in toward the blonde, "Brittany says you have questions for me?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I apologize for taking long to come up with an update. Life has been busier than usual and will probably remain that way for the next few weeks so I can't really say when the next update will be. I just wanted to get this one out so I'm sorry for any mistakes, etc. I would've kept writing if not for utter exhaustion and sleepiness. And again, I heartily thank everyone who's bothered to read and even leave a review. I hope there's not too many things wrong in this one. BTW, I had an idea where this story was going but I may have managed to veer off the path a bit. I don't really know...I'm winging this one. Bear with me if you please. :)**

CHAPTER 4

"So...Brittany says you have questions for me?"

Rachel's face a mere few inches away from hers, looking eager and relaxed and, well...all sorts of nice, Quinn is unable to reply right away. She finds herself leaning back, needing a little breathing room because, frankly, Rachel Berry up close and smiling - no, beaming - is doing funny things to her.

And then she wriggles her eyebrows, affecting a playfully impatient look and Quinn has to pull her hands down to her lap to keep from...she's not sure exactly what impulse she's trying to suppress, she just knows it has to do with her fingers making contact with smooth, tanned skin - Rachel's.

Finally regaining a little bit of composure, she shrugs. One of her hands reappear on top of the table to play with the fork on her plate.

"Why don't you order something first?" She replies, buying herself a little more time to organize her thoughts, a habit borne out of years of law school simulated and real trials.

"That's not such a bad idea," Rachel concurs, immediately flagging down a waitress. In true Rachel Berry fashion, she fires off her order as soon as Jodi, the waitress, finishes asking what she'd like. "I'd like the greek pasta salad with red wine vinaigrette please. No onions, no anchovies, vinaigrette on the side. Thank you."

Quinn smiles to herself, noting how very little seems to have changed. The high school diva still appears to be as efficient - and polite - as ever.

"No onions and anchovies huh?" Quinn quirks an eyebrow, tone playful. "Planning to kiss anyone later?" she pokes.

Rachel raises a coy eyebrow, willing the pink tinge on her cheeks to go away. She's not even sure what it is about Quinn's words that has her blushing. It could very well just be the blonde's tone, that huskiness she never really noticed in high school.

"Who knows?" she decides to play along, a rare lopsided grin on her face.

"Mr. James?" Quinn asks, immediately wishing she hadn't gone there yet. Not quite sure she really wants to hear the inevitable how-I-became-Rachel-James story.

It surprises her when Rachel laughs, sounding genuinely amused.

And then shakes her head no.

"No, I don't think so. Kissing Mr. James is definitely not in my immediate plans," she declares, grinning still.

"Why not? Isn't that one of your wifely duties?" Quinn presses on, intrigued. She leans forward a little, resting her forearms on the table.

Melodious laughter rings out from the brunette once again, tickling Quinn's ears.

And insides.

"If I were a wife, then yes, that may very well be one of my duties," she replies vaguely while Joni returns, setting her plate of salad and vinaigrette on the side in front of her.

"So you're not married?" Quinn continues to interrogate, paying the waitress no mind.

"Wasn't that supposed to be your first question?" Rachel asks before daintily putting a forkful of greens in her mouth, Quinn watching her every movement. "You've been dying to ask why I go by Rachel James, haven't you?" Rachel continues when the blonde appears uninterested in replying anytime soon.

Realizing she had been staring, Quinn breaks her gaze from Rachel's mouth, leaning back once again for some much-needed space.

"It's been an object of curiosity, but dying? Not quite, Berry," Quinn replies finally, eyes rolling to back her claim.

Again, Rachel quirks a well-shaped brow. "So ask," she orders, shrugging. "What is it you're most curious about?"

"Are you married?" Quinn asks directly, going along with the brunette's order. Rachel appears to think about it for a second. "It's a pretty straight-forward, yes or no question, Rachel," she reminds the other girl.

Rachel chuckles. "Technically, I am married. To Mr. James. But we are in the process of working on being, technically, no longer married."

"You're getting a divorce?" Quinn clarifies, preferring clear-cut terms for this one.

"Yes, we are. In about a month, if I were to believe everything the lawyer says - no offense to you, of course, you being a lawyer yourself, I just don't quite know how much weight to put on their promises," she clarifies with an apologetic wave of her hand.

Quinn chuckles, "None taken," she quickly reassures Rachel before pausing, considering this bit of news. "You don't seem too sad about it? I take it he's a "good riddance" kind of husband?"

Rachel quickly swallows, appearing eager to respond. "No, no definitely not," she hastens to correct the blonde. "On the contrary, we remain very good friends. It's just..." Rachel pauses, taking a lungful of air, "it's just one of those 'we're better off as friends, not lovers' kind of relationships."

"Is he gay?" Quinn spits out before she could stop herself, eliciting laughter from the brunette.

"A negative to that one, too," she replies, still chuckling. "He is definitely heterosexual," she adds with a mysterious smile and a light blush.

"How'd you end up marrying him then?" Quinn shifts in her seat, getting comfortable even as she finds her curiosity even more piqued the more the brunette quietly working on her salad reveals. "Wait," she puts a hand up before Rachel could reply, "would you mind telling me his first name or is it a matter of national security?" she jokes.

Rachel rolls her eyes, smiling. "Rick."

"Rick James?" Quinn asks, eyes widening. "Rick James as in the 'Super Freak' guy?" she asks, brows furrowed in severe surprise.

Rachel, on the other hand, has to put her fork down to grab her napkin and cover her mouth while she breaks into merry laughter. "If I had a nickel for every time I got that when I tell people my husband's name, I wouldn't have to work for Santana. I'd have my own school," she says, giggles gradually easing. "No, it's not that Rick James, the R&B and funk singer, songwriter, record producer famous for, as you mentioned, Super Freak," she rattles on, ignoring Quinn's laughter and half-hearted attempt to interrupt. "That Rick James isn't even alive anymore, Quinn," she adds, amused.

"You obviously were a fan though," Quinn teases.

"Me? I was...am not a fan. My musical taste doesn't quite extend to his genre of music, " Rachel denies, managing to do it politely, to Quinn's continued amusement.

"For someone who's not a fan, you seem to know a lot about his career," Quinn argues, raising a familiar eyebrow.

"Oh, that? I googled him," Rachel explains, "I decided if people would keep on asking if he was my husband, then I might as well find out who exactly this popular person is," she finishes, adding air quotes to her use of "popular."

"Of course you did, Rachel. Of course you did," Quinn chuckles with a slight shake of her head. "So who is this impostor you are married to then?"

"Richard James," Rachel replies quickly. "He just likes to go by Rick. He actually gets a knack out of the mistaken identity and confusion his name elicits," she adds fondly. "He has a sense of humor like that."

Quinn feels a twinge of something resembling jealousy at the familiar and fond tone Rachel affects when talking about this Rick James guy. "How did you meet him?"

Rachel goes on to tell the curious blonde about how she had met Rick on one of her first, minor, off-broadway roles while still going to Julliard and then kept on ending up working with him on Broadway. This time after quitting Julliard at 20.

"So you've been with him for quite a while then?" Quinn notes.

"No," Rachel quickly corrects her, "we were best friends for a few years before we decided to elevate our relationship onto the next level, so to speak. We got married three years ago and then mutually decided to separate last year," she finishes as she leans back, a pensive look painted on her face.

Quinn looks on, confused. "Last year? And your divorce isn't final yet?" she questions, ready to discount Rachel's divorce lawyer's credentials.

"We didn't file one until approximately two weeks ago," Rachel clarifies.

"Oh." Quinn leans back herself, eyes still trained on the brunette. "Tried to work things out?" she asks quietly. Noting Rachel's uncharacteristic silence, she hastens to reassure the music teacher. "You don't have to answer that, of course, if you're not comfortable with the topic. I'm just being nosy now," she tries to dismiss her own question with a wave.

Rachel smiles reassuringly, shaking her head. She's not sure what it is but everytime the brunette smiles at her, whether it be her mega-watt smile or the barest hint of one, a knot forms in her stomach. Her nerve endings come alive and some form of electricity courses through her. "Your nosiness doesn't bother me," Rachel tells her, a hint of teasing in her tone. "It's not something I'm accustomed to though," she adds, "Quinn Fabray expressing interest in Rachel Berry's life."

The blonde looks down, breath catching as she is suffused with guilt and more than a bit of shame. "I'm sorry, Rachel. You're right, I don't deserve to question you about your life now after all the...indifference I showed you in high school. I-"

"Oh shush, Quinn," Rachel interrupts, surprising Quinn. "I was teasing. High school was a long time ago. I have gotten over most, if not all, of the issues...dissension, conflict or what-have-you from then," she pauses, appearing to consider whether to go on, which she does, quietly. "With everything that's happened since, high school has been nothing more than a minor impediment. At least compared to all the other impediments since," she finishes on a lighter tone, giggling softly and tickling Quinn's Rachel-sensitive insides once again. "And besides, we've had a civil, even - I dare say - enjoyable, conversation for close to an hour and I've yet to feel cold ice dripping down my head onto my back. So yes, I believe we have made progress and should be able to move on from high school now."

Quinn laughs, shaking her head at how easy it has been. How easy _this _has been. This being sitting down at a restaurant and carrying on a pleasant conversation with Rachel Berry with all their history of animosity and distasteful behavior - on her part, at least. "That's it? You're not even going to make me work for your forgiveness?" she challenges with a raised eyebrow, unable to discard the flirtiness in her tone.

Rachel raises an eyebrow herself, a slight tinge of pink coloring her tanned cheeks. "Do you want to?" She surprises herself when she matches Quinn with an undertone of flirtiness in hers as well.

Quinn finds herself drawn to the brunette, leaning forward to rest her forearms on the table. She smiles up at Rachel, her smirk softening into a gentle smile when she notes the blush that has yet to disappear from the brunette's cheeks. She takes a moment to remind herself that as oddly natural as this feels for her - this flirtation and teasing - the same might not be true for Rachel.

"I would definitely be willing to do anything to earn your forgiveness," she says quietly. Sincerely.

The blonde's eyes squint with fond amusement when her simple but very much meant words cause Rachel's blush to deepen even more.

"I..well...I-" Rachel starts, seemingly lost for words and grateful when Quinn skips the teasing she quite obviously was about to dish over her uncharacteristic stumble. "What did you have in mind?" she finally ekes out, conceding the battle for coherence.

Quinn chuckles. "Doesn't the punisher usually decide the punishment?" she questions.

Rachel rolls her eyes, gaining some composure back. "I do not wish to punish you, Quinn," she states firmly, eyes widening when she catches the double entendre that obviously did not escape Quinn's attention, judging from the smirk the blonde now sports. Rachel shakes her head disapprovingly at Quinn, unable to hide her own smile. In truth, this teasing, flirty Quinn that has been in display for most of their time at the restaurant has unnerved her.

Which is not to say she has not enjoyed this version of the blonde as well. Surprisingly, she has had to fight back the urge to flirt right back a few times herself. Not quite sure how to interpret her current reaction to the blonde, she decides to blame the novelty of this situation. Of being able to communicate comfortably and without any hint of hostility with her blonde tormentor.

Ex-tormentor, she corrects herself.

"Ok," she hears Quinn say, turning her internal conversation off to direct her gaze toward the blonde. Rachel watches the blonde shrug then lean back and away from her. Quinn's confident gaze remain trained on her. "How about, to make it up to you...I cook you dinner at my place instead?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Sorry this took quite a long time. Too much going on and wasn't really happy with the last chapter, as were you - my readers - too, I assume. I'll try my best to chug out another chapter in less time than it took to get this one out. Again, I thank whomever has been kind enough to leave a review. I hadn't realized how much of a push reviews give one to keep writing. So much so that I've vowed to be a more industrious reviewer of the stories I love myself. :) Not much may happen in this one but next one (when I can get around to writing it) should have more. Again, thank you for leaving reviews and taking time to read and add alerts. :)**

Accepting Quinn's invitation to dinner at her place - with the blonde herself taking on culinary duties - didn't take much thought for Rachel. So far, she has found this 27 year old version of Quinn nothing but charming and infinitely interesting. As baffling as the blonde's flirtiness has been, she has been able to credit the blonde's natural charm for this. However much feared Quinn had been in high school, others had still gravitated toward her, owing to a certain allure and charisma she has always possessed, only layered underneath her tough head cheerio persona.

Rachel surmises that it's taken all these years for all the layers on top to peel off. The Quinn she has encountered today seems to be a Quinn stripped of her high school protective barriers.

And this Quinn, she has found inexplicably beguiling.

Which is why she had accepted the dinner offer without preamble, barely able to hold back an excited squeal.

Rachel finds herself standing at the door of the music room with Beth, watching Quinn approach. The previous three days, their interaction had been minimal with Rachel always rushing off to meetings and after-work appointments. Truth is, those appointments had been hastily arranged in order to clear Friday night which is when dinner at Quinn's will be at.

Tonight. Only a few hours away.

"Hi, Rach," Quinn calls out. It hadn't taken her long to totally get accustomed to calling her by her abbreviated name, the gesture further confirming in the brunette's head that friendship is the blonde's sincere intent.

"Hey, Quinn," she returns, waving back.

Quinn accepts Beth's hug, giving the smaller blonde a kiss on the side of her head. "Hey, kiddo. Ms. Berry treating you well?" she questions, nudging her daughter with her hip.

Beth rolls her eyes, still a little embarrassed by her mother's familiarity with her much admired music teacher.

"Much better than you used to treat me," Rachel answers for the bashful kid, eliciting laugher from Quinn.

"Touche, Rach. Touche," Quinn concedes, still chuckling. "That's why I'm paying up with dinner tonight. We are still on, are we?"

"On for what?" another voice interrupts behind Quinn. Santana appears, a curious eyebrow quirked.

Quinn instinctively turns to Rachel, hoping the brunette would take on answering the latina's question, wary of the teasing that's bound to follow. Rachel refuses to cooperate though, shrugging while throwing her a look that says the blonde gets to take this one.

"Wasn't my idea," Rachel mumbles under her breath before grinning at Quinn.

"So? Are you two going to stop making googly eyes at each other anytime now or would I have to ask Beth instead?" Santana presses impatiently.

"Mom, what's googly eyes?" Beth asks, curious.

Rachel laughs lightly while Santana manages a fond look of amusement. "I'll have Rachel explain it to you later, sweetie," Quinn informs her daughter, shooting Rachel a triumphant smirk.

Santana watches the exchange, pleased and yet a little apprehensive about the progress between her two friends. Over the recent years she's worked with Rachel, she has come to consider her fellow brunette a friend. And if she were to be completely truthful with herself, her current fears are mostly for the music teacher. Between the two, she considers her to be the more vulnerable. For as long as she's known Quinn, she's seldom had to worry about her, even when their contact had been minimal and the blonde had been away from family and friends, she had faith her strong-willed friend would be able to get through most anything.

"I invited Rachel over to dinner tonight," Quinn interrupts her internal musings, surprising the young principal with this bit of information.

"You move fast, Q," Santana remarks, slapping her glaring friend on the back.

After a disapproving head shake and a quick glance at Rachel who seems to now be sporting a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks, Quinn tries to set the grinning brunette straight. "Wasn't it you and Brit who kept reminding me I had a lot of making up to do to Rachel?" she reminds Santana. "Consider this a first step," she declares with a shrug, hoping to get off the topic.

"First step, huh," Santana replies, her ample lips pursed in exaggerated thought. "First step," she repeats while tapping a finger on her chin, winking at Rachel whose blush deepens.

"It was very nice of Quinn to offer to cook dinner, Santana. I believe it's customary for two people trying to build a friendship," she pauses to glance at Quinn, wordlessly asking for approval to use the "f" word. Quinn smiles in return, nodding in both agreement and appreciation as Rachel finishes, "to meet socially, get to know and be exposed to each other's lives."

"You mean date?" Santana clarifies, completely matter-of-fact. Quinn growls under her breath, secretly afraid the other brunette's teasing would scare Rachel off from even being ok with forming a friendship with her.

"She means as in two friends having dinner together to catch up," the blonde quickly replies before Rachel could even stutter a correction out, the usually loquacious brunette appearing tongue-tied.

"Yes, that's what I meant," Rachel agrees quickly.

"Which means me and this kiddo right here should get going so I can get cooking," Quinn gives a bored Beth a gentle nudge. "Say bye to Aunt S, Beth. Rachel, too, although you'll be seeing her again later," she prompts the kid already reaching up to hug Santana.

"Don't stay up too late, kiddo. Give your mom and Rachel a chance to catch up, alright?" Santana whispers - not too quietly - into the little blonde's ear as Quinn watches with resigned amusement.

"I'll see you later, Beth," Rachel gives the talented kid an affectionate pat on the back as both mother and daughter wave goodbye with Quinn mouthing a smiling "later" to her.

"Berry," the smaller brunette's head whips in attention, Santana's voice pulling her gaze away from the blonde duo. She quirks an eyebrow in question. "Berry..." Santana repeats, looking oddly pensive, a departure from her typical upfront, speak-before-thinking self.

"I am aware that is my last name, Santana. Although James is, technically, what my last name is currently but since we are in the mid-"

"Berry!" Santana cuts her off, appearing to have regained her usual impatience. "Just...tonight, with Quinn..." she hesitates, Rachel's furrowed brows tellign her she has the other brunette's full attention. "Just be ca-," again, she sputters, stopping mid-thought, not quite sure how much liberty she should take in meddling with whatever is happening - or about to happen - between her two high school classmates. Her protective instinct had kicked in, her impulse to tell the music teacher to be careful . "Just be candid," she finally blurts out, earning a confused look from Rachel. "Yeah, just be candid. Shouldn't be too hard for you."

Rachel's look of confusion persists. She gives Santana another questioning look.

"It's not rocket science, Berry. Be honest with Quinn. Ask her questions. Get to know her. And let _her_ get to know you, too, before..."

"Before what?" Rachel prompts Santana, more curious than clueless now.

"Nothing," Santana dismisses her question with an eye roll.

"I think I know what you're trying to tell me, Santana. And yet I think I have absolutely no idea," Rachel remarks with a chuckle.

"Pft, Berry. Again, it's not rocket science. You two keep going on about trying to become friends. So go be friends. Just make sure everything's out in the open because that's how it is with friends, isn't it? Total honesty," the brunette principal finishes, ready to make her leave before the other brunette asks more questions. "Anyway, I have to go. Brit's making enchiladas tonight. I can't be a minute late for that," she informs Rachel, signalling her departure with a forced-looking wave. She softens the rash dismissal with a half-smile and a wink. Rachel watches her leave, digesting the brunette's mysterious directives.

"Honey, can you get the door please," Quinn calls out to Beth when she hears knocking at the same time her timer buzzes, unwilling to risk leaving the main course inside the oven a second longer. For some reason, she feels the pressure to make sure things go right tonight. "Ask who's at the door before you unlock it, honey," she reminds her daughter as she pulls the eggplant parmesan from the oven while keeping an ear on the conversation at her front door.

She smiles to herself when she hears Rachel's voice, crystal clear even from behind the wooden barrier. "It's Rachel, sweetie. And just so you know it's really me, you were wearing jeans, a light blue top, and blue chucks to school today." The blonde's smile turns to chuckles when she hears this, surprised when she hears the long-winded brunette's voice again. "And your mom was wearing khakis and a pale pink top when she picked you up." Quinn's ears perk at this, eyebrows elevating as her mouth curls into a smile.

Next she hears Beth greeting Rachel while the latter compliments her on being well aware of safety protocols for answering the door.

"You missed my footwear when detailing my attire, Rach," Quinn remarks, grinning to herself when she hears footsteps approaching.

"White chucks," comes the quick reply, causing her to turn away from the current task of lining up garlic bread on a plate and toward their somewhat blushing guest.

"Good to know you pay attention." Surprisingly, Rachel does not reply, instead scrunching up her nose at the blonde for her teasing.

"Should I set the table, mom?" Beth breaks their grinning match with her question.

"Please, sweetie. Thank you," Quinn replies.

"I can help her with that," Rachel offers, ruffling the smaller blonde's hair lightly.

"No, no, no," Quinn quickly rejects the idea even as she resumes plating. "You're the guest and you're to do nothing tonight but, hopefully, enjoy the food," she declares firmly.

"And the company?" a voice asks from behind, closer than expected, eliciting a little shiver from the blonde.

Especially when she feels a fleeting tap on her lower back. She turns slightly toward Rachel - now standing behind her attempting to peek over her shoulder - smiling softly.

"Yeah. Hopefully, the company too."

"I would bet money on that," Rachel reassures. "I'd bet money on enjoying the food, too. Judging by how good it smells."

"Give me another minute and then you can judge by how it tastes." Quinn tries to sneak another glance at the brunette, surprised when she no longer finds the smaller woman behind her. She spots her at the end of the counter, her attention on something.

"I guess I'm not the only googler around here." Rachel looks up with a teasing smile, holding up her discovery - an eggplant parmesan recipe printout.

Quinn laughs, feeling the last bit of nerves evaporate. Teasing Rachel, she can now conclude, is real adorable Rachel.

"Guilty," she concedes, feigning regret at being caught red handed. "I'm more used to making chicken parmesan, which is Beth's favorite, by the way. She wasn't too happy when I announced chicken would be replaced by eggplant tonight but as soon as she realized it'd be for her beloved Ms. Berry, I didn't hear another peep out of her." Quinn tells her story while attempting to balance the eggplant parmesan dish on one arm while picking up a bowl of greens with the other.

Rachel scurries to her side to help, grabbing the bowl of sauteed spinach from Quinn. "Here, let me take that. It's the least I could do after all the trouble you went through and for forcing my dietary preferences on you guys."

"Oh, shush, Rachel," Quinn admonishes the brunette. "How much trouble could it be to google and substitute chicken with eggplant? And besides, it's high time Beth started broadening her gastronomical horizons outside of chicken this and chicken that."

"She doesn't like vegetables?" Rachel asks, leaning slightly against the counter as she looks up at the blonde.

"Oh, she eats her carrots and peas but outside of that, it takes a little bit of convincing. Maybe you can help me with that?" she quirks an eyebrow, her smile fading into a look of horror when she realizes what she may have implied with her words. "Not that I expect you to take on the responsibility of helping raise my child or to make it your business what she eats and d-"

"Shush, Quinn," Rachel interrupts, giggling at the blonde's rant.

The combination of her laughter and that warm hand on Quinn's forearm do nothing to ease the blonde's once again slightly frazzled nerves.

"I'll gladly educate Beth on the benefits of having vegetables in her diet," Rachel voices in reassurance, adding, "besides, that daughter of yours and I," she pauses, gesturing with a finger, "I think we're on the same wavelength," she finishes with a wink.

This time, it's Quinn's turn to giggle. Inwardly, she marvels at Rachel's calming effect on her. One teasing remark or the hint of a giggle and everything feels lighter instantly.

She makes the sound of an exaggerated groan, nudging Rachel's hip as she walks past the smaller woman. "That's not really very reassuring, babe," she whispers, bringing her face close to the brunette, grinning before resuming her walk toward the dining room.

Behind her, Rachel laughs quietly, suddenly more excited to have dinner with the Fabrays.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So...it's been forever since I last updated and haven't written anything since the last update until last night. And I think that'll show in my writing so apologies in advnce. No beta, just wanted to get my feet wet again, so to speak. This'll be short...just wnated to get a feel for whether anyone's still interested or if anyone even remembers this story. Thank you for taking the time to read and again, sorry for any errors in spelling/grammar. **

Conversation has been light and full of laughs throughout dinner. Beth had taken to the vegetarian version of her favorite dish much better than her mother had anticipated, no thanks to a certain brunette's enthusiastic endorsement of the featured vegetable. Rachel's litany had even included a list of celebrities who have named the eggplant as their favorite vegetable - something Quinn wasn't quite sure if a product of the high school diva's extensive knowledge of celebrity histories or of her creative white lying skills. Either way, she has a hunch eggplant dishes would come in high demand from here on.

"So..." the younger blonde begins thoughtfully during a rare lull in conversation. "Can you tell me about high school and glee club? Mom's told me a little bit about it but I think there's a lot more that would be interesting. Aunt S and B haven't had a chance to tell me anything either. So maybe you can, Ms. Be- Rachel?" Beth finishes shyly, her questions slowing down as she realizes how eager she must have sounded.

Rachel sneaks a questioning glance at the older blonde, quietly asking for permission. Quinn replies with a barely discernible shrug, resigned to her daughter's persistence.

"Sure, I promised you I would anyway, didn't I?" The young teacher replies, earning a familiar mega-watt smile from the young girl. "Where would you like me to start?"

"How about glee club?" is Beth's immediate and predictable response. Hearing that her mother had a musical background in high school thrilled her no end. The only thing that had kept her from peppering Quinn with questions about it had been a motivation to hear about it from Ms. Berry.

"Glee club!" Rachel obviously shares the young blonde's enthusiasm. "My favorite high school topic," she declares. Quinn rolls her eyes teasingly, preferring to sit back comfortably and let the glee club captain do the talking. Which she does, for the next half hour, occasionally interrupted by a wide-eyed Beth's questions.

The young girl's unwavering attention amuses Rachel, however, she finds nothing more endearing than the involuntary looks the 8-year old blonde would throw her mother's way everytime Rachel would mention a particular detail about Quinn. They were looks of both genuine surprise and apparent adoration.

But what charms her more than anything is the subtle blush Quinn now sports, either from her daughter's adoring looks or the brunette's unexpected praise of her singing skills. And the fact that the blonde could barely look at Rachel when the brunette talks about only spurs the latter to keep at it.

"Somebody to love?" Beth interrupts, eyes even wider than usual. "You did that at Regionals? No wonder mom loves that song!" she reveals as she makes the connection.

"She does, huh?" Rachel quirks an eyebrow, surprised by this new information. She didn't think Quinn favored anything related to their high school glee club. Her gaze lands thoughtfully on the blonde whose head is down, a faint smile and that now seemingly permanent blush adorning her features.

"Did mom ever do a solo?" Beth's question steals her gaze away from the uncharacteristically bashful Quinn.

A slight frown mars her features, remembering her indignation at what she had then judged an unjust decision by Mr. Schuester.

"No, Beth, she never did," she declares quietly, shaking her head at the thought. "She should've though. I fought for it but our coach, I guess, didn't have and ear and a musical judgment keen enough to appreciate your mother's vocal abilities."

Her eyes return to Quinn who, this time and to her surprise, looks up and holds her gaze.

Their eyes lock for a few seconds before Quinn says quietly, "You did, didn't you?"

Rachel smiles softly, remembering exactly which song she thought would've been a perfect regionals solo. "It's A Man's Man's Man's World would have been compelling."

"Only you really believed that," Quinn says, chuckling self-consciously.

"That's because no one else had the musical training I had that allowed me to appreciate certain nuances in someone's voice and delivery that would elevate a song to another level. As much as I valued vocal skill and training, what no one realized then was that I put equal weight on the intangibles. And those intangibles you definitely possessed," Rachel declares with instinctual passion.

Quinn could only stare at the brunette wordlessly, completely caught off-guard by the compliment, high praise considering the source. "Wow," she finally mumbles. "For a moment there I was back in high school listening to one of your verbose rants," she adds, gently teasing the diva in hopes of diluting her own nerves. "But thank you, Rach," she adds softly, genuine affection coloring her simple words as she continues to hold the other girl's gaze.

"I only speak what I truly feel and believe, Quinn," Rachel replies, returning Quinn's smile.

The blonde considers this thoughtfully, the younger blonde now fidgeting somewhat impatiently for her turn to ask another question momentarily forgotten. "Yes you do, Rachel. You always did."

"What about wh-" Beth jumps in, unable to reign her excitement and curiosity much longer.

"Beth," Quinn interrupts her daughter, shaken from her staring contest with the brunette, "it's getting late, you can ask Rachel more next time," she announces, not surprised to see her daughter's pout and prepared for an expected protest. "Nope," she reiterates firmly before Beth could even begin to express her objection, "Rachel has answered your questions for more than half an hour now and I have to clean up, too."

"I promise you can have an hour at least next dinner, ok?" Rachel pipes in, seeing Quinn's determination, belatedly realizing the implication of her words. "I mean next time we see each other, which would not necessarily be over dinner. It could be at school or -" she clarifies immediately to save herself from further embarrassment, unable to risk a glance at Quinn.

"No, you said next dinner, Rachel. That means you have to come again tomorrow," Beth challenges, turning to her mother. "She can come tomorrow for dinner again, can't she, mom?""

"Beth, it's not really necessary to have me for dinner again tomorrow, your mom - "

"Will be more than happy to sharpen her vegetarian culinary skills even further and have Rachel over for dinner again tomorrow," Quinn cuts Rachel's protests off, silently conveying her sincerity to the brunette with a look. "That's of course, only if Rachel hasn't made previous dinner plans then we'd have to find another time to have her back for dinner." She looks from her daughter back to Rachel, inwardly eager for the brunette's response.

"I...uh...I don't really want to trouble you..."

"You wouldn't," Quinn interrupts her hesitation once again, pausing for a moment before deciding to add softly, "I'd love to cook you dinner anytime, Rach." She smiles again, only this time shyly.

"How can I refuse that then" Rachel finally relents, "especially considering how delivious dinner tonight was," she adds.

"Woohoo!" Beth exclaims excitedly, for once demonstrating a vocabulary more age-appropriate.

"Young lady," Quinns directs to her daughter, "we need to have rules though. Such as you can only ask Rachel 5 questions and that's it, ok?"

Beth considers this for a second then, deciding it is a fair enough compromise, nods. "Ok mom. I'll have tonight and tomorrow morning to carefully decide which questions to ask. Thanks," she declares seriously, leading to the two adults at the table exchanging amused and fond looks.

Once Quinn has Beth safely tucked in bed after en extended goodbye with Rachel, she pauses outside her daughter's door, oddly nervous about returning to the living room where Rachel awaits. Nervous about spending what's left of the evening, that's if the brunette does not decide to head home soon, alone with Rachel.

With characteristic determination, she overcomes her nerves to will herself to make the short trip back to the living room where she finds Rachel sitting quietly on the couch, one leg tucked underneath her.

"Hey, you ok there?" she asks as she walks in, confident Quinn smile in place.

Rachel looks up, mildly startled. "Yes, yes...everything's ..ok," she replies, hating how nervous she feels, completely oblivious to the blonde sharing the same state.

"Uhm, want a glass of wine or something?" Quinn offers, pausing a safe distance from Rachel.

Rachel considers this for a second. "Maybe not. I don't really think I'm up for alcohol tonight."

Quick to quell her disappointment, Quinn's brain hustles for an alternative offer. "Ice cream?"

Quinn watches Rachel's face light up, inwardly giving herself a congratulatory at. As nervous as she may be right now, she would gladly battle her nerves if it means spending a little more time with the brunette. "I only have cherry garcia and plain old vanilla, I think," she mutters, half to herself.

"Cherry garcia!" Rachel beams, reminding Quinn of the 8 year old she had just tucked in to bed.

"I would take that as an affirmative then?" she asks, eager for confirmation.

Rachel only nods in response, continuing to beam at the irrevocably charmed blonde who bends to pick up the TV remote before offering the device to the brunette.

"Here, I give you free reign. Pick whatever you want to watch. Or, if you're so inclined, my daughter has quite the musical collection. I wouldn't complain about watching one of those either. Heaven knows I've had enough practice."

Quinn's teasing grin widens as Rachel gives her an exaggerated offended look. The young teacher's frown disappears quickly, replaced by a brief pensive look. "I will take you up on that offer, Quinn," she finally says, "but not tonight."

Disappointment seeps in to the blonde once again, thinking Rachel did not want another reason to stay longer. Before she can reply, the brunette beats her to it, continuing, "How about tonight, we just talk?" Rachel asks with more than a little apprehension, looking about as nervous as Quinn feels. "I mean catch up...you know, on what has happened since we graduated. If you'd rather not, I'm sure I can find a suitable show for us to watch or -"

"Rach," Quinn interrupts the nervous rambling she deems utterly adorable, "it's ok. We can talk...catch up. I'd love that."

They smile at each other before Quinn walks off toward the kitchen, both struggling with equal amounts of nervous excitement.


End file.
